If Only
by Eliza2012
Summary: Damon considers what might have been. First part of multi-part story following the end of S3.


If Only

* * *

As he takes another blow from Alaric, preparing himself for death, Damon _remembers_.

He remembers the first time he saw her.

* * *

He's lying on the road, playing his usual game of injured pedestrian, hoping to stop some unsuspecting driver so he can feed. Then he hears her as she walks through the trees, and his first instinct is to just swoop down on her and drain her dry without a second thought, without even looking at her. Without even thinking.

She's so stupid she walks alone in the darkened forest, away from everyone? She deserves to die.

But even before he's seen her, something about her makes him stop. He stands in the shadows beneath one tall fir and listens. In the distance, the humans laugh and talk around the bonfire, unaware of the predator in their midst, soon to wreak havoc on their quiet little world. Around him are the sounds of the forest, the cicadas chirping to the darkness, the whisper of a breeze through the leaves. The scent of pine and woodsmoke mingle in the air, and like almost everything in his life, it reminds him of another day and another fire so long ago.

He hears her voice and it's so _familiar_. She's talking to a friend, telling her about a fight she's had with her boyfriend. She realizes she doesn't love him, but she doesn't want to give him the 'Dear John' message despite knowing she must. She's torn between her boyfriend's familiar comfort and her need for real passion, too nice to do the hard job of letting him go.

She can't stand to hurt him because she really does _care_.

It brings back his own heartbreak so many years ago – a heartbreak that's been plaguing him ever since. Her story reminds him of his own humanity; something he's tried so hard to bury down deep enough so he won't feel the pain. Covering it up with sarcasm and snark, or just drowning it in blood as if his heart was some litter runt that didn't survive its first day.

At first, he can't believe it when he sees her. A shock of disbelief mixed with insane hope goes through him because she's there – _Katherine_ – but his mind rebels. Katherine's trapped beneath the church.

How can she be free?

"_Katherine_…" he says and he's ready to run to her, wrap his arms around her, his mouth finding hers, fantasizing that she kisses him back…

"No," the human says, looking behind her, confused as if he's talking to someone else. "I'm _Elena_."

And then it hits him. She's not Katherine but she's _so much_ like her that his breath hitches. Her long dark hair and dark eyes, the lovely slim figure and lips so soft and pink. Lips a man just wants to kiss…

"Oh, _you_…" he says, taking in a fractured breath, "you just _look_…" He manages to get control over himself and steps closer. "I'm sorry. You just _really_ remind me of someone."

She steps back from him as if she instinctually senses the threat he poses to her. Not so stupid after all…

"I'm Damon," he says, smiling, not wanting to frighten her.

"Not to be rude or anything, Damon," she says, making a face of disbelief, "but it's kind of creepy that you're out here in the middle of nowhere."

"You're one to talk," he says and smiles again, treating her like a wild animal he has to tame to hand, moving slowly and carefully, but he can't help but gently chide her. "You're out here all by yourself."

"It's Mystic Falls. Nothing bad ever happens here," she says all blissfully innocent.

And he thinks, _Oh, sweetheart. You have __no__ idea… I almost ate you for supper._

She holds up her cell phone and smiles a bit sheepishly. "Got into a fight with my boyfriend."

"What about?" he says, holding up his hands as if in apology, not wanting to appear too prying. "May I ask?"

"Life. The Future." She shrugs. "He's got it all mapped out."

"You don't want it?"

"I don't know what I want."

He smiles knowingly. "Well, that's not true. You want what everybody wants."

She makes a face of disbelief, like he can't know her heart or mind. But he _does_. He _knows_ young girls. He's known them for a hundred and fifty years.

"What? Mysterious stranger who has all the answers."

"Hm," he says and smiles. "Well, let's just say I've been around for a long time. I've learned a few things."

She plays along, pushing him, expecting him to not know. To get it wrong.

"So Damon, tell me. What is it that I want?"

He breathes in and he can smell her from where he stands and she smells so vibrant, so alive, so full of blood. And he could have her in a second, drink her dry so fast. But he doesn't want her blood, or at least, not _only_ her blood.

He wants _her_.

"You want a love that consumes you," he says, stepping closer. "You want passion and adventure. And even a little danger."

She smiles at him, and he can see her surprise that he _knows_. She doesn't want to admit it to herself but she does want all those things. She wants passion. Her boyfriend's talk about the future, college, marriage, children – it's _not_ what she wants, but she's been raised to think it is and that's exactly where her life will go if she stays in Mystic Falls.

She's so damn afraid of that future, it chokes her sometimes.

He _knows_.

"So, what do _you_ want?" she says, not able to deny it, deflecting the uncomfortable truth by throwing the question back at him.

He thinks for a moment. He _thought_ he wanted to eat her. He thought he wanted to _drink_ her blood – every last drop of it. But something about her makes him stop, hold the bloodlust at bay. He wants to _know_ her – in every way.

Yes, it's partly because she's so much like Katherine. But it's more. She's so much _not_ like Katherine that he's intrigued. Or maybe, she's the way Katherine _might_ have been if she hadn't screwed her life up so badly back in the day and became a selfish, manipulative, cold-hearted predator of his and his brother's hearts.

He wants to be the one to give her what she really wants. He wants to watch her blossom into the amazing young woman she will one day become when she finds it. He wants to be the one to enjoy her when she does.

Then a car approaches, beeping its horn, ruining the moment's ambience.

"My parents," she says, glancing at the car as it rounds the bend in the road. She turns back to him, and he can tell she'd like to keep talking. There's a definite chemistry between them. They could talk all night.

He judges how far the car is from them and he knows what he has to do.

He's not going to eat her.

At least, not yet.

He has to make her forget she met him.

When he's ready, he'll find her. He thinks he might like to keep her as his pet, feeding on her just a bit every day, not too much to weaken her, but enough so that she's part of him. He'll take her where she wants to go, give her what she wants and needs and then, when she's ready, he'll make her his and together they'll face eternity.

That's what _he_ wants.

He's a romantic, despite all the scars on his cold undead heart. One hundred and fifty years of living as a vampire haven't cured him of it.

He's intrigued by how much she resembles Katherine. He's attracted to her physically, strongly attracted, because of the resemblance. But more than that, he's drawn to _her_.

She's so _good_. He can sense it even now, so soon after they've met. Her honesty about her boyfriend. Her innocence and her desire for something epic to come along. She's like Sleeping Beauty waiting for her dark prince to come and kiss her, wake her from her from her 'everything's safe in Mystic Falls' slumber.

He steps closer, catching her eyes with his, using his powers to compel her.

"I want you to get everything you're looking for," he says and he does want it. He wants her to be the un-Katherine. "But right now, I want you to forget that this happened. I don't want people to know I'm in town yet."

He stares at her for a moment, imprinting her face in his memory – a face that is already so damn familiar he knows every curve and angle and lash and hue.

"Good night, Elena."

And then he's gone, watching from the shadows as she gets into the car that will carry her off towards her destiny and away from him.

If only he'd been more selfish – if he'd only been more greedy, he might have taken her into the trees and let the car drive by, and they might have talked the night away. Then, he could have used his powers to make her forget and then everything would have turned out differently.

But he wasn't and it didn't.

Her parents died, Stefan saved her life, and the rest is history.

Now, history repeats itself and like Katherine before her, she chooses Stefan – _again_.

Isn't that what she – and Katherine – said to him once – "It's always going to be Stefan."

He knows now that if her parents hadn't died that night, she would have chosen him. She would have broken up with Matt, she would have been more brave, her heart would have been stronger, and she would have faced her future unafraid of danger the way she became when she lost her parents. She wouldn't have settled for safe and sweet Stefan, the perfect boyfriend.

She would have chosen him – passion.

Every fucking time he does the right thing, it only ends up hurting him.

Well, he's not giving up. He met her first and one day, when she realizes that Stefan, with his sweet adoring high school crush boyfriend schtick, no longer does it for her, he'll be there.

He starts to fight back, no longer willing just to let himself die. He resists, meeting Alaric's blows with his own, motivated to survive by the truth that she _would_ _have_ _chosen_ _him_ if her parents hadn't died.

One day when she gets over that hurt, she'll choose him.

Then, Alaric falters, and in a flash, Damon knows it's not because he's beating Alaric.

When the truth cuts through his heart like a hot knife, he can't accept it. He _can't_.

"No, Ric, _no_," he says as Alaric falls, crying out in pain. "No, no, _no_."

Alaric dies, his body becoming still and grey.

"You are _not_ dead," Damon cries, grief overwhelming him. "You are not _dead_!"

Alaric _can't_ be dead because that means that _she_ is and Damon can't accept a universe where Elena is dead.

* * *

He's speeding off in the car as he dials the phone.

"Come on, Stefan. Answer your goddam _phone_."

Finally, Stefan answers.

"_Damon_…"

Stefan's voice says it all. He doesn't have to say the words.

"_How_?"

"Matt – the truck," Stefan says, his voice barely above a whisper. "The Wickery Bridge. She drowned before I could go back and get her…"

And Damon's heart breaks – _again_. Twice in one night.

_Elena_…

_Wait a minute._ Hold the fort. Go _back_ and get her?

A wave of anger and grief and despair threatens to overwhelm Damon and his eyes blur yet again.

"What the _fuck_ do you mean, go _back_ and get her? You didn't save her _first_?"

There's silence on the line.

"Oh fuck, you goddamn _bastard_…"

"She wanted me to save _Matt_ first," Stefan says, his voice breaking. "And If I didn't, she'd never _forgive_ me. When I went back, it was too late…"

And Damon is so fucking mad at his ripper brother who killed thousands with no pity and yet lets his own fucking girlfriend – the woman Damon loves – _die_ so she wouldn't be _mad_ at him?

What the _fuck_ is wrong with Stefan? Damon would rather take her hate and let her live than have her dead but happy…

Damon turns the phone off, unable to listen to another sniveling moment of Stefan defending his choice. Now, there's _no_ chance for him, no way he'll _ever_ have her, ever watch her become the woman she wants, live the life she deserves.

He'll _kill_ Stefan. He'll take the white oak magic ring stake and shove it so deep in Stefan's bleeding heart that he'll vaporize, burn up like a piece of fucking lint. He fantasizes about kicking Stefan's dead body, pummeling his handsome face until its nothing more than a pulp, she _can't_ be dead, she _can't be dead_… _Elena!_

* * *

When he arrives at the hospital, he rushes to the ER, knocking into some old man shambling down the hallway smiling as if life's a bowl of fucking cherries and all Damon wants to do is shove his stupid fucking face into the wall.

"Where is she?" he says as Meredith intercepts him. "Where is she?"

He has to see her dead body to believe it. He can't believe it until he sees her.

Meredith grabs him.

"Damon, wait. You need to know that when Jeremy brought her in here earlier tonight, her injuries were worse than I let on," she says, shaking him. "It wasn't a concussion. It was a cerebral hemorrhage. Bleeding on the brain."

He frowns, unable to understand what she's going on about. Elena _drowned_. Meredith's bleating on about cerebral hemorrhages.

"What are you saying?"

"He was so worried I didn't want to tell him but I _helped_ her. She needed my _help_."

He makes a face, grimacing as realization cuts into his heart like a stake. "You _what_?"

Then it all becomes so fucking clear except that he can't see anything because his vision is suddenly blurry and every ounce of strength drains out of him.

Elena had his _blood_ in her when she died after Matt drove off the Wickery Bridge and it's just one fucking tragedy after another.

And he thinks that life is so fucking unfair and chaotic and meaningless and tragic that there must be a God, and a mean bastard at that, to kill Elena with _his_ blood in her. _His_ blood – he who would gladly die to keep her alive. He who would have let Matt die to save her, bearing her hatred in order to save her beautiful life.

He who only wanted her to live the life she deserved. Now, she'll be a vampire and she'll never have that life. Her life will be just like every other vampire's. Consumed by an incurable addiction to blood. Every waking moment focused on getting it or getting control over the lust for it.

And he wants to take the stake that he still has in the inside pocket of his jacket and shove it down Stefan's throat and into his heart the long way but he can't because Stefan is utterly destroyed.

He goes to Stefan and puts his arm around Stefan's neck, cradling his head in his arms and together they mourn her human life, waiting for her other one to begin.

"I hate you, you fucking bastard," he says to Stefan as he tightens his arms around his brother, his cheek against Stefan's head. "I hate you."

Stefan lets out a half-muffled sob, grabbing Damon's arm, and Damon knows Stefan will never forgive himself.

He's almost completely broken and once, seeing him like this would have made Damon happy, but now, after everything, after all they've been through, he can't hate Stefan, even for this.

He can't.

* * *

___If you like my Vampire Diaries stories, you will like my original vampire fiction, coming to in July 2012. Check my profile page for updates or email selund2012 ._


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